


Compromise is Key

by Docjackal



Category: Night In The Woods (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Domestic Violence, F/F, Just MaeBea, No sex planned though, Them figuring themselves out, There might be violence, Will add tags and edits as the story demands, Won't shoot up to an M rating though, actually, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2018-10-10 23:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10450284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Docjackal/pseuds/Docjackal
Summary: There was a long, uneasy silence between them as the gears turned in Bea’s mind. Mae knew she was asking a lot of Bea, and knew she’d have to give a lot back in return. So she finally showed her hand, standing up to meet Bea’s gaze.“If you stop smoking, I’ll work on getting a job and getting back into college.”[HIATUS ENDED, New Chapter is up!]





	1. Long Winter

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here's my first Night in the Woods fanfic. I hope you all enjoy it. Even though I fell into shipping hell rather early on, this game had a very profound effect on me. It came at a time in my life that I think I needed to play it; that I needed to see the story, needed to explore this world.
> 
> I don't know how much I'll be delving into that you can find in other fanfics, but I'm going to do my best to make this story my own. I hope you like this story. It, like everything else I experienced on my Night in the Woods, is a personal one.

 

“You want me to do _what_?” Bea asked, the last word almost a growl. It nearly made Mae shake, more than the wintry night air. Still, she had to be strong about what she said. Assertive. Bea would respect that.Yeah, totally. Plus she had the territorial advantage since they were right outside her house.

“I want you to stop smoking.” Mae repeated, folding her arms—partly to keep them warm, partly to look serious. Bea squinted, letting out a low hiss as she removed the cigarette, almost ever-present, from her mouth.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want it to hurt you. That’s what cigarettes do. They give you cancer, and ruin your teeth and voice, and—“

“My voice?”

“Yeah, I didn’t really think about it until lately, but your voice, it’s gotten all…scratchy, low.”

“Mae it’s been years.” She sighed. “I got older. My voice changed.”

“Not many years!” Mae frowned as she threw her hands up. “It shouldn’t have changed that much.”

Bea pinched the bridge of her snout, lowering her head and shutting her eyes as she sighed. This was giving her a headache. “Really, Mae? Why now? Why not when you came back?”

“Cause I didn’t think about it ‘til lately! I was kinda busy, chasing ghosts, getting chased by death cults, dealing with…this.” She said, pointing to her head. “All the crazy. In me, around me…the weird shit seemed more urgent.”

“And it’s only come up now because…?” Bea opened her eyes, looking very tired—more tired than usual, at any rate—without her cigarette between her lips.

“Because I’m worried about you.” Mae dropped her arms, her ears drooping a bit. “I mean I guess I’ve always been worried about it since I got back but I had to push it back, because I didn’t want to get into a fight with you and you’d think I was even more annoying than I already am.”

This gave Bea pause. Mae only usually worried about stupid shit, like the sky falling, or ghosts abducting people. Which, well, that one wasn’t exactly wrong. Everything but the ghost parts. But worrying about people? Her? Mae hardly ever seemed to worry about people, unless she was the cause of something like back at the party.

“I...wow, ok.” Was all she could say right now.

“I’m worried because I know how hard you work, and I know how much you have on your shoulders, and I don’t want…I don’t want you to die.” She blurted out, like she blurted everything out. This actually made Bea chuckle.

“You think I’m going to die?” she scoffed.

“If you keep smoking, yeah! The chances shoot up, at any rate.”

“Please, Mae.” Bea rolled her eyes, looking down at the cigarette in her hand, still lit, still half finished. “We’re all gonna go sometime, of something. Might as well enjoy what I can. God knows I don’t get to do much enjoying these days.”

“Bea…” Mae sighed, sitting down on the steps of her porch, letting the assertive façade slip. “I don’t want to watch you die.”  
  
“If I do, it wouldn’t hit me until…hell, years down the line, Mae.”

“Ever! I don’t want to watch you die, ever!” Mae almost shouted as she glared up at Bea, and Bea flinched as she heard the tears in Mae’s voice. Oh, jeez. She wasn’t good when other people cried. She wasn’t even good when _she_ cried.

“Crap, Mae, you’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“As serious as I was about the ghosts, and wanting help, and you being home enough, and…”

“Okay, okay, but…jeez, this is a big thing you’re asking of me, you know? I mean, I smoke to lower my stress levels. I’d be a lot more snappy, a lot more irritable, and I know how easy it is to hurt your feelings.”

Mae looked up at her, sniffling and wiping her eyes, determined not to let the dam break in front of Beatrice. “I know that, Bea, but you’d be a lot more alive. And that’s what I want: You, alive, for as many years as we can squeeze out of our bodies.”

Bea looked down again at her cigarette, seriously seeming to contemplate it. There was a long, uneasy silence between them as the gears turned in Bea’s mind. Mae knew she was asking a lot of Bea, and knew she’d have to give a lot back in return. So she finally showed her hand, standing up to meet Bea’s gaze.

“If you stop smoking, I’ll work on getting a job and getting back into college.”

Bea let out a raspy laugh, which cut off as Mae grabbed and squeezed her free hand, firmly.

“I mean it, Bea. I’ll get a job. Get help for that…whatever’s wrong with my head, get whatever I can of my life back on track. And I’ll go back to college, and take you with me.”

Bea blinked. Good lord, Mae was serious, wasn’t she? She was speaking about working to fix her life with the same conviction she used when she was talking about breaking into a cemetery, or going into the mines.

“No shit?” Bea asked, cocking a brow.

“No shit.” Mae smiled, seeing that she’d chipped through the wall that Beatrice had put up just enough. “It’s a Mae Borowski Promise, good for as long as you stop smoking.”

“…And you’ll actually work towards this? Toward getting help, finding a job, getting us—getting into college, if I give up smoking?”

“As hard as I can. I’m not gonna lie, I may need your help with some stuff because you’re smarter than me, but I’m gonna work at it as hard as I can.”

She released Bea’s hand, extending it for a handshake deal, looking down briefly at Bea’s hand; the hand still holding the cigarette. Bea looked down at the cigarette, and took a long sigh through her nose, exhaling a chilly breath that came out like smoke in the cold air.

“You know,” Bea said, dropping the cigarette to the ground and stamping it out under her boot, “If it were Gregg telling me this? I’d think he were bullshitting. But for whatever reason, I believe you.” She firmly latched her scaly hand with Mae’s, shaking it affirmatively. Before Mae could squeal or cheer, Bea yanked Mae close with surprising strength, squinting her eyes. Her breath was surprisingly warm, Mae noted, as it hissed across Mae’s lips when Beatrice growled out a threat.

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Mae broke out into a rare grin, pushing herself against Bea in a hug. “Ohmigod ohmigod no, I won’t, I promise!” she broke the hug, seeing Bea’s confused, blushing face as she  raised her hand in a salute she hadn’t used in forever.

“Scouts honor! I’ll keep my word as long as you keep yours.”

“Tch.” Bea rolled her eyes, almost laughing at Mae’s goofiness. “You better. I’m going to regret this in a few days, don’t make it be for nothing.”

Mae lowered her hand. “I won’t, Bea. Neither of us will regret this. I’m gonna go talk to my mom, start figuring things out.” She started to run for the door, but stopped, turning around and kissing Bea on the cheek as if it were an afterthought—one that, all the same made Bea’s normally tired eyes open wide, a pinkish tint rising in her cold cheeks.

“Thank you so much, Beabea~” Mae smiled, heading into her house for real this time, leaving a befuddled, bewildered Bea out in the cold. She blinked, tapping her cheek where Mae had kissed her, realizing what had happened just as the Borowskis’ front door slammed. That was…new. Something that Mae never normally did when they were parting. Abnormal even for Mae…that was a new one.

Bea stepped off the sidewalk, toward her car, stopping to look down at the crushed cigarette she’d been standing on. She let out a shaky sigh, pulling the pack of cigarettes out of her coat pocket, looking down at them and thinking for what felt like a long, long time about her next move.

“God dammit, Mae…” she sighed, before shoving the pack of cigarettes into the trash can the Borowskis had sat out near the streets before she could think twice about how stupid it was. She trudged quickly over to her car, looking up at the clear night sky, letting out one last puff of cold, smoky air, wishing it tasted like nicotine.

“This is gonna be a long winter…”

\-----


	2. The Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mae goes job hunting at an unexpected place.

It was a slow day at the Ol’ Pickaxe, but anything else would’ve been out of the ordinary for Bea. The passage of time seemed slower, however, without the aid of her cigarette.

Three days had passed since she’d spoken face to face with Mae and agreed to the terms of her deal. Admittedly, she didn’t believe that Mae would hold up her end of the deal and look for work past the first night. This, like everything else in Mae’s world, would be temporary; a passing worry.

But for the last two nights, Mae had been spending their conversations online talking about her progress so far in the job search. She had spoken to her family about it, and they had agreed that she needed to focus on a job first, so that’s what she had done. She made sure every morning and every night to let Bea know what she was doing in regards to the hunt. The first day, she had her mom help her compile and print a resume--which, from the sound of it, was as bare-bones as it gets, but it was to be expected given Mae’s inexperience.

The next day she had gone around town to see what places were hiring, and what she might be good at. It was actually impressive, in a way. Bea just kind of always expected Mae wouldn’t have the drive. The message she’d left Bea this morning said that she was going out with her mom to put in applications and advertise herself.

“Good for you, Mae.” She thought to herself, smiling a little, drumming her fingers against the countertop. The bell at the door rang as it swung open, snapping her out of her trance.

 “Hello, welcome to—Mrs. Borowski?” Bea’s eyes widened a little bit, and she smiled as warmly as possible.

“None other!” Candy Borowski smiled back, adjusting her jacket as she stepped inside. “I can smell another snow coming. Coldest weather we’ve had in a year or two, eh?”

Mrs. Borowski was always warm and kind to Bea when they’d had their scant interactions in the past. She reminded her of her own mother. “I usually can’t tell. What brings you here?” she smiled, resting her arms on the counter.

“Hey, Beabea!” came a familiar voice from behind Mrs. Borowski. And there was Mae…looking uncharacteristically neat. The hairs that stuck up on her head had been combed to the side, and she was wearing a black jacket over a white button up top and khakis—the same kind of neat, boyish clothes she usually wore for church,  back when they were younger.

“Mae? What’re you doing here?” Bea straightened up.

“Well, you asked what I was doing here.” Mrs. Borowski smiled, as Beatrice looked over at her. “This is Mae’s trip. Go on, honey.” She encouraged Mae. Mae straightened her own posture and coughed a little bit, taking a manila envelope out from under her arm and placing it on the counter.

“Ms. Santello, it’s good to see you. I’m here today to turn in a resume and inquire about employment here.” She smiled. Upon opening the folder, Bea found a printed copy of Mae’s resume.  The details inside were scant, but the presentation was all very official. She looked up at Mae, then to Candy. Was this a joke? It had to be a…no way. No, Candy wouldn’t joke like that, and Mae wouldn’t change out of her regular clothes unless she were serious. Would she? That little speech she’d given before handing over the resume sounded so rehearsed, yet…sincere.

“I, uh…wow. Ok.” Bea blinked. “Um. We didn’t actually have a hiring sign up here or anything. You’re not just doing this to hang out with me?”

“Absolutely not, Ms. Santello. I’m here to apply to your wonderful establishment and get my foot in the door of the world of employment.”

More rehearsed stuff. Great. Reassuring. Bea sighed. “Right, um…Mrs. Borowski, do you mind if Mae and I talk for a few minutes?”

“Not at all, dear! I need to look for a Christmas gift for my husband anyway.” Candy smiled, before walking out of sight and, presumably, earshot.

“Right, um…ok, Mae.” Bea sighed. “The truth. Are you just here to goof off?”

Mae actually looked offended. “No! I’m here to see about getting a job. If you don’t want to give me one, it’s fine, just—“

“Where else have you been besides here, today?”

“The Pawn shop, the Video Outpost, the Taco Buck, Ham Panther—“

“But not the Snack Falcon?”

“No, I figured me and Gregg working together would be bad for both of us. We’d be more likely to goof off around each other, and he’s working on being better about the misdemeanors for Angus’ sake.”

Huh. She actually thought about this.

“You hate the Ham Panther because it knocked the Food Donkey out of business. And like, three of those places have friends of yours working there.”

“Yeah, so what? I made a promise to you, and I’m trying to keep it; I’m looking for work.” Mae frowned, frustrated. Bea was seeing if there was any ulterior motive, trying to rile Mae up to see if she was really, really serious about this.

“If you were working here, there’s a good chance we wouldn’t be seeing each other past lunch breaks, opening and closing. Plus I’m not exactly sure what you could do since you seem too disorganized for shelf stocking or register work.”

“I don’t care, Bea. I’m here looking for work because I _assumed_ you all were hiring. If you’re not, fine. I’ll figure something else out.”

Bea looked down at the skeletal resume. It was pitiful looking. I mean, they weren’t exactly hiring for rocket scientists or splitting the atom at the Ol’ Pickaxe, but…Mae?  But she’s trying. But It’s _Mae_ …but she’s dressed all neat, and she sounds so serious…but…Mae’s never serious…but…

But…

Bea sighed through her nose. “I can call my dad. I’m not in any position of power to hire people personally. I’ll talk with him about it.”

Mae smiled. “Thanks, Bea. That’s all I wanted.”

“Mmhmm.” Bea sighed as she lifted the receiver of the phone that was next to the register, beginning to dial. “I need a cigarette…” she muttered to herself, as the phone began to ring. After about a minute, she got a response. Mae couldn’t make out what the voice on the other end of the line was saying, but the tone couldn’t be anybody else but Mr. Santello’s.

“Hey, sir. It’s Bea. Yes, everything’s fine, I’m actually calling because someone is here seeking employment. Yes. Mae Borowski. Yes. The one who—yes. With the fish. I’m looking at her resume right now, do you want me to read it off for you? Ok…”

Mae swallowed as Bea listed off everything on the resume, keeping herself as composed as possible.

“Yes, that’s all of it. Not much, no. We’d have to give her something she qualified for, minimum wage to start…the what? Oh yeah, him. He left like a week ago, but I don’t think she’d…hah, alright.”

Bea chuckled, looking up at Mae. “Well, we do have an open position for a janitor during the week since ours quit. It’s minimum wage, messy work. Sound like something you’d be interested in?” There was no way Mae would actually be interested in--

“Perfect!” Mae chirped raising her arms enthusiastically. If Bea had been smoking, the cigarette would’ve fallen out of her mouth, it opened so wide.

“I…she says that’s perfect? Um…yeah. Uh, ok.” She put her hand over the speaker as she turned back to Mae. “The position is from about 10 AM to 6 PM, Monday through Friday. He wants to know when you can start.”

“First thing tomorrow!” Mae grinned, looking like she were trying to keep from squealing.

“First thing tomorrow. Uh huh. Yeah, I’ll give her the orientation, let her know what she needs to do, all that. Ok. Ooooh-kay. I will be sure and give her a warm welcome on your behalf. Uh huh. Ok. Bye.”

Bea took a deep breath and forced a small smile. “Congratulations, Mae Borowski, and welcome to the Ol’ Pickaxe.” She said, with muted enthusiasm. “You start tomorrow.”

The excitement building up in Mae built up to a fever pitch as she squealed, leaning over the counter and giving Bea a hug. “YAY!!”

“Mae, I just want you to know, while I respect your decision to get a job—“

“Thank you so much, Bea!”

“This is still going to be work—“

“I promise I’ll do as much as you need me to!”

“This place can get pretty messy—“

“I’m so happy!”

“Uhhh…” Bea groaned. Was Mae listening? She pushed herself out of the hug as gently as possible in her tense state. “Why don’t you go let your mom know? I’m sure she’ll be just as happy as you are about it!” she grinned, forcing it a bit more.

“Okokok I will, thank you!! Message me later and let me know what I need to bring tomorrow!” she said, leaning over the counter and kissing Bea on the cheek, before bolting off to see her mom, leaving Bea stunned once more at the affection of the gesture.

Okay, once she could understand; maybe she was excited about Bea giving up smoking for her? But…twice? Well, then again, Mae was excited _now_ too. Maybe she was just an excited kisser? Was that a thing? It hadn’t used to be for Mae. She usually just threw her arms up and cheered.

Bea grunted a little as she felt her cheek where Mae had kissed. It felt warm under the scales.  She hated how the affection made her flustered. It wasn’t like she had a crush on Mae of all people, anyway. She didn’t fit the bill of Bea’s usual interests in that regard in the first place, and besides, Mae was almost her polar opposite in terms of personality.

_So why the hell does it rattle me this much?_ She thought to herself. She shut her eyes and shook her head. _Just…compartmentalize those thoughts for now, Beabea. You’ve got a lot more to think about between now and tomorrow and beyond._ It was probably just Mae’s excitement, anyway. Didn’t mean anything.

Across the store, she could see Mae hugging her mom tightly, laughing and smiling with the older woman, who had tears in her eyes. And she couldn’t help but smile at the scene, without any sarcasm or forced enthusiasm this time. At least she could discard the thoughts of Mae making this a joke. She returned to drumming her fingers along the countertop.

"Good for you, Mayday..."

Mae was serious about working.

The kisses didn’t mean anything.

Mae was going to be working with her now.

Didn’t mean anything.

Not a thing.

_I need a cigarette._

_==========_

_Later_ …

==========

 

[Foxtrot Messenger Client v.402]

Mayday: Hey girrrrl.

Bea S.: Hey. So like, you’re sure about this? You can still back out of working as a janitor.

Mayday: Why don’t you want me to work there! It’s a job, it pays, and your dad seemed willing enough to hire me!

Bea S.: Yeah I know but like. I know about your attention span problems and all, and this is still going to be work. You’ll have to clean up some gross stuff from time to time.

Mayday: Bea, I told you that I was willing to work. I meant it. I’m being as serious as I possibly can about this. Plus I’ve seen plenty of gross stuff, Beabea. I’ve got an iron gut.

Bea S. : Well, ok. I recommend wearing some clothes you don’t mind getting dirty. There’s not really a uniform policy or anything, just wear whatever you don’t mind getting wet with sweat or mop water or assorted gunk.

Mayday: Ooooooh~ I get a mop!

Bea S.: That is a strangely enthusiastic response to a cleaning utensil.

Mayday: It could be like, my gimmick if I were a pro wrestler.

Bea S.: What

Mayday: “The Killer Cleaner: Mayday Borowski!”

Bea S.: How did you get onto this topic

Mayday: I’d clock people with the mop and heel it up!

Bea S.: Mae no

Mayday: "Kapow! You just got cleaned!"

Bea S.: Please do not make me regret letting you handle cleaning utensils.

Mayday: You could be my take team partner! “The Wrench Wench”

Bea S.: "Wrench wench?"

Mayday: Yeah! Because you work at a hardware store!

Bea S.: Why not “The Hammer” or “The Nail”? Anything with Wench in it is kind of demeaning.

Mayday: Those would be good too!

Bea S.: Right. Well, one career choice at a time, kiddo.

Mayday: We could call ourselves “Hardcore Hardware”

Bea S.: I gotta get some sleep. See you tomorrow morning. Try not to be late.

Mayday: We’d be the tag team champs in no time!

Bea S.: Goodnight, nerd.

Mayday: Goodnight “Nail”!

[Bea S. is now “away”]

Mayday: Thanks again. I won’t let you down. <3

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's chapter two! I got much more positive feedback on the story than I was expecting so I decided to continue it with gusto. Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying this fic so far. I'm having fun writing it, and I'm glad I seem to be keeping to the tone of the characters well enough.
> 
> This chapter took place primarily from Bea's point of view while remaining third person. I was thinking of having the chapters kind of alternate to focus on Mae and Bea's separate points of view regarding the events of the story, so the next chapter will likely be from Mae's point of view. Or it'll switch it around as I need. We'll see!
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter. It sets up some fun stuff down the road.


	3. Earning, Yearning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mae has a good conversation.

* * *

 

The first thing Mae Borowski would’ve told someone about herself—probably without them even asking--was that she wasn’t good at much. Many of her attempts at work or hobbies outside of reading, playing bass and walking across power lines without getting arrested or electrocuted had turned sour. There was a word for people like her; she had to have a conversation with Bea about which one it was, one day while they were on break.

“You know, those kinds of people that are only good at like, a couple of things, and average-to-crappy at most other things?”

“Savant?” Bea had replied in a kind of grunt, chewing on one of the toothpicks she had begun substituting for cigarettes. “Yeah, I guess you could call yourself that. Dunno if savants actually exist or not, though. Some people are just better at certain things than others.”

Bea had been teaching Mae, lately. Not just about her job, but about herself; explaining words and terms she had only the loosest grasp of in the past, like ‘bipolar’, ‘arrested development’ or ‘disassociation’. It was scary how easily terms like that ended up fitting Mae, once she had Bea to help define them. Though, as Bea reminded her: “You should really be seeing a psychologist or a therapist about this kind of thing. Self diagnosis is okay to a point, but if you talk to someone qualified, like, with a medical degree for this kind of thing, they can help you with this better than I can.”

But ‘Savant’ was a new one. Not really psychological, as far as Mae could tell. It was a new word, yet somehow accurate, because in the two weeks since Mae had started her job as a janitor at the Ol’ Pickaxe, it was startling to both Bea and Mae how _good_ she was doing at the job.

She wasn’t perfect, or didn’t feel perfect. She was new, after all. Some messes proved difficult, and she didn’t always finish a day’s work by the time Bea closed up for the day, but she was trying. Bea seemed to seesaw between startled and impressed by Mae’s willingness to work and learn.

“You know, Mae.” Bea smiled as she handed Mae her first paycheck, “I’m proud of you. You’ve earned this. Keep it up.”

“Woah.” Mae’s eyes opened wide as she took the check out of its envelope.

“Yeah, it’s minimum wage, but—“

“More than I get in my Christmas cards.” Mae whistled. “And this is what I’m gonna be making every two weeks?”

“More or less.” Bea replied. “At your schedule anyway. Depends on if it’s a slow day and we close up early or not.”

“You can do that?”

“I’ve done it before.”

“And you don’t get in trouble?”

“Meh. If customers aren’t coming in force by around three in the afternoon, they’re not coming in at all by around four. Something dad told me. So sometimes I lock up early.”

“Huh…still, though, wow.” Mae smiled, going in to hug Bea, but Bea put a hand on her shoulder, shaking her head as she cut Mae off.

“Before you start, don’t thank me. This was all you, Mae.” She smiled. “Again, I’m proud of you. You earned it. Just be smart with your money, don’t go crazy and buy a hundred candy bars or something.”

“Oooh, tempting.”

“Mae, no.”

“ _Mae_ -be.” Mae waggled her eyebrows at Bea, who groaned at the pun. “Oh, relax. Part of it’s going into my new college fund, don’t worry.”

“And the rest?”

“Well, Longest Night’s coming up soon.”

“Ah, right. Well, just don’t go crazy. Remember the deal you made involves you being responsible.”

“I’ve been responsible so far, haven’t I?” Mae frowned.

“You have. Just reminding you, we’re in this together.” Bea replied. It was hard not to notice that whenever Bea sighed now, she trembled a little, and she had taken to fidgeting.

“You’ve been responsible too, right?” Mae asked, gently. It wasn’t hard for Bea to guess what she really meant.

“I’ve been sick to my stomach a few times and I almost punched out some old goat who said I was showing off too much skin for this time of year. The fact that the withdrawals are hitting me this hard should tell you what you need to know.”

Mae smiled. “I’m proud of you too, Bea. This is gonna be so good for you.”

“If you say so, Mae.” Bea chuckled, dryly. Mae could tell that this wasn’t what Bea wanted. She knew from the start, when she asked her to do this, that Bea wouldn’t like it. And truth be told, Mae didn’t like the idea of getting a job either. She was pleasantly surprised at how she’d taken to cleaning duties though. It made her feel…important, in a strange way. Like she were positively affecting an environment.

“What do you want for Longest Night?” Mae asked, suddenly. The thought had swept back into her mind, pushed back by the talk of their arrangement earlier.

“Huh?” Bea snapped out of a trance she’d been in. “Oh, I don’t know. We don’t really celebrate it.”

“Oh. You aren’t religious, or…?”

“Eh, not so much that, just that my dad can’t really work up the holiday spirit past getting a ham and some wine, and since my mom’s passed, things seem kind of...it doesn’t feel as important. We don’t decorate or do anything like that. That was always kinda her thing…”

“She was really good at it.”

“Yeah…she was.” Bea smiled, just a little. Mae smiled back.

“I remember, we always used to come around your house and all the lights were—“

“Stop.”

“Huh?”

“Just…please, stop.” Bea said shakily, swallowing a bit. Mae opened her mouth to continue, but closed her mouth, biting her tongue.

“Ok.” She said, gently.

“Thank you.” Bea nodded, seeming thankful that things didn’t escalate to a fight, as they had in the past. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Mae nodded back, solemnly, replacing the check in the envelope, and pocketing it in her jacket. “If you think of anything you want for Longest Night…”

“Don’t worry about me, Mae. Worry about yourself, and your family.” Bea forced a smile, and it stung a little, because as bad as she was at reading meanings, Mae could tell that Bea was jealous of her. _‘Your family.’_

“I’ll think of something.”

“Don’t.”

“Can’t stop me. Not unless you’ve got freaky psychic powers I don’t know about.”

“Tch.” Bea chuckled. “As if I’d use my psychic powers to keep you from thinking of gifts for me.”

“Yeah, you’d probably use them to make me dance on the counter here.”

“You’d do that without any psychic influence.”

“True.”

“Heh. Well, look. You run on. I’ve gotta close up and go get groceries. Talk to you online later?”

“I am a slave to the internet.”

“As we all are.” Bea replied dryly, smirking. “Take care, Mayday.”

“You too, Beabea.”

* * *

 

 

As Mae left the Pickaxe, stretching, she looked in the direction of the Snack Falcon. She could use some energy. Coffee? No, no, she hated coffee unless it was like, ninety percent milk and sugar. Or chocolatey. It wasn’t really coffee then, though, was it?

Ugh. That didn’t matter. She’d just get a Fiascola. Can’t grow up too fast. Especially not if she’s seeing Gregg.

Gregg was his usual excitable self when Mae entered the Falcon, and happily obliged her request for the most sugary Fiascola they had in stock, immediately launching into conversation with her.

“So, how’s scrubbin’ stalls treatin’ ya?” Gregg grinned as he passed her a Fiasco Dark.

“Going well, actually. Just got my first paycheck.”

“Ooooh, look at you, rollin’ in the dough.”

“Moolah.” Mae nodded.

“Cash.”

“Cha-ching.”

“Dinero.”

“Sawbucks.”

“Never heard that one before.”

“It’s an old one.”

“Was it good money?” Gregg asked, taking Mae’s dollar and punching in the numbers to add it to the register.

“For a beginner, according to Bea.”

“Hellz yeah.”

“Hellz, man.” Mae smirked as she popped the tab on the can, taking a long swig of soda.

"You see any gross stuff yet? Any poop monsters?"

"Ew, dude, while I'm eating?!"

"You're drinking!"

"It's about to wind up all over the countertop if you keep it up, sheesh! Then you'll have to play janitor."

"I'd give you like five bucks to clean it instead."

"Oooh..." Mae thought to herself. Gregg snickered.

“You're a cog in the machine now. You comin’ to band practice later?”

“That happening today?”

“Yup. Got a song I wanted us to try out.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Didn’t wanna break tradition.”

“One day you’ve gotta let me know this stuff like a day or two in advance.”

“What for? You’re best when you’re improvising those tasty licks.”

“I completely garbaged up Pumpkin Head Guy.”

“That’s fine, it was total trash rock.”

“Still, this was like, trash on top of trash.”

“Trash icing on the trash cake.”

“You gotta get organized better, Gregg.”

“Hah, you of all people tellin’ me I gotta get organized.” Gregg snickered, waving his hand dismissively. “If it means that much to you, you can go warm up. It isn’t for another hour-ish.”

“Hrm…that might actually be a good idea. Been a while since I’ve just practiced.”

“Yeah, go improv some acoustic stuff. Warm up the strings.”

“Right. Well, see you and the others in about an hour?”

“Unless we all die horribly in a violent garbage truck accident.”

“Guess that’d be poetic.”

“Totally poetic.” Gregg smiled, and Mae couldn’t tell if he were serious or joking around. Gregg’s sense of humor could get a bit dark sometimes.

“Right.” She said, hocking her now-empty can into the trash can next to the door. “See ya then!”

* * *

 

 

When Mae arrived at the Party Barn, she was startled halfway up the stage by something--or rather some _one_ \--she hadn't seen when she walked in.

“Hello.” Germ smiled, sitting on the stage, near the band’s equipment that had been covered by a tarp.

“Jeez!” Mae yelped, her hair standing up as she finally saw the scratchy-voiced young man, clutching her chest to try and calm her heart. “You could’ve turned the lights on!”

“Hahaha!” Germ laughed, leaning back and pointing at Mae. “I scared youuuu!”

“You did!”

“Nightmare Eyes got scared!” he mocked, in a singsong voice.

“Urgh, you know that nickname?”

“Gregg told me.” He smiled, sitting back up as Mae climbed onto the stage, uncovering the band’s equipment. “I like it. It suits you.”

“Tch.” Mae rolled her eyes, as she slung the bass guitar’s strap over her shoulder, sitting on a stool and beginning to tune it.  “Thanks, it’s terrible.”

“But fitting.”

“I’m gonna have to get you back for scaring me now, you know.”

“You can try.” Germ said. Mae couldn’t tell if he was sarcastic or serious. He smiled as he said it.

“I will.”

“Okay.”

Mae sighed, plucking some strings, checking the tune.

“What are you doing?” Germ asked, tilting his head.

“Practicing.”

“Alone?”

“What? No, no. Practicing for when the band shows up later.”

“Practicing for practice.” Germ said, more of a statement than a question.

“I guess so. Just warming up.”

“It is cold in here.” Germ nodded, pocketing his hands, clicking his beak a bit.

Mae didn’t reply, concentrating on plucking the strings for the moment.

“Gregg’s trying to branch out, you know.”

“Branch out?”

“Trying to get gigs for the band.”

“No shit?”

“None. He told me ‘gigs mean money, and it’s money we can save up and move to Bright Harbor and go to college!’ and he did that thing where he flops his arms all over like spaghetti."

“Huh. You think that’ll pan out?”

“It could.” Germ nodded. Mae frowned.

“That’s noncommittal.”

“It could pan out. Or it couldn’t.” Germ shrugged. “Nobody is sure.”

“I’ll have to talk to him about it later. I should practice for now.”

“Practice.” Germ said, without nodding or affirming anything this time. It was more like he was giving her permission.

Mae took a breath, closing her eyes, and beginning to gently pluck the strings off the bass. After a few minutes, she formed a tune, and began humming along to it. It was an old song, one of the first she’d learned. A minute or so of her practice passed silently, before she started to gently sing along.

_“And if you don’t love me now,_

_You will never love me again,_

_I can still hear you saying,_

_You would never break the chain…”_

“If who doesn’t love you?” Germ spoke up, startling Mae out of her trance and causing her to stop playing.

“Wha--?”

“If who doesn’t love you?” Germ repeated with the exact same tone.

“Oh, ah, no, no. That’s just an old song. It was one of the first ones I learned so it’s easy for me to pick up and practice.”

“So you don’t love anybody?”

“What? Jeez, it’s not that.” Mae scoffed, rolling her eyes and setting her guitar aside. “I love people. My parents, Gregg, Angus…”

“That’s not the kind of love you were singing about.”

“It’s just a song, dude. I didn’t even write it.”

“But you _meant_ it when you sang.”

“You are _nosey_ , Germ.” Mae snickered. “Trying to pry my secret crush out of me?”

“So you _do_ have one?”

“Urrrrgggh.” Mae sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, starting to actually get frustrated. “Okay. This isn’t funny anymore, dude.”

“I’m sorry.” Germ frowned, looking down off the stage. It was hard to tell if he was feeling guilty, but Mae accepted the apology all the same after a few moments.

“It’s fine, I have trouble with that too. Guess it sucks on the other end.” Mae laughed wearily, running a hand through the messy frock of hair on the top of her head. “Since we’re clear, I don’t know. I don’t really know if I feel that kind of love for anybody right now. It’s always been kind of a…” Mae cut off, trying to think of the right words. “I’ve always had trouble making that kind of connection with people. I have things in people that I think I want, but that doesn’t always necessarily mean I end up having the hots for someone who has the total package. I had crushes, dates, that kind of thing but…never really went far.”

“You’re strange.” Germ said, matter-of-factly, starting to juggle a stray drumstick that’d fallen and rolled away from an unused drum kit in the back.

“Tch. Way you talk you sound like you’re rolling in it.”

“I don’t really care for romance. I don’t think I’ve ever felt it. I like people. I like friends. But I don’t like kissing or holding hands.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right person.” Mae shrugged.

“Maybe I don’t care if I do.” Germ replied, returning the shrug, still managing to catch the drumstick mid shrug as it fell down. “Friends are good enough for me. I like you. You’re a good friend. You, Gregg, Angus, and…”

“Bea.”

Germ’s brows raised a little as Mae finished for him.

“You’re working for her.” Germ said. The way he said it, it was like Mae was part of some sort of shady operation. She couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Yeah. Working is kind of a new thing for me.”

“I worked once.”

“Yeah?”

“Two years ago. I was a bag boy at a grocery store during the summer.”

“Were you good at it?”

“I put lots of things in bags.”

“Well, that’s something.” Mae sighed, not knowing what kind of answer she honestly expected.

“Is Bea a nice boss?”

“Yeah, for the most part. She’s pretty fair to me and the others I’ve talked to.”

“She can be mean sometimes.” Germ responded, after a few seconds of thought, still continuing to almost lazily juggle the drumstick with one hand, never missing a catch. Mae laughed, dryly. She couldn’t tell if the wheels turned slow or fast upstairs for Germy.

“Sometimes, yeah. I don’t know if I can blame her, after all the crap she’s had to go through. Do you know about any of it?”

“Some of it.”

“Some is probably enough. She’s not very open unless she really, _really_ likes you.”

“Does she like you?”

The question caught Mae off guard. She opened her mouth to to reply, but closed it and scratched the top of her head.

“Some days I wonder. I mean…we have had some pretty nasty arguments in the past, but I think we’ve moved past them. I hope so, anyway. Some days it feels like…some days it feels like we’re the best of friends, and other days it feels like she hates me.”

“Bea hates a lot.” Germ affirmed, finally placing the drumstick down.

“Yeah, she does…” Mae sighed, sadly.

“You do too. Gregg told me about the one you hate, what was his name…”

“ ** _Scriggins_**.” Mae hissed, narrowing her eyes. “Steve _effing_ Scriggins.”

“Bea has a lot of Steve Effing Scrigginses.”

“Steve Scriggins and Bea’s Scriggins clones can go have a Scriggins orgy in the middle of a dying sun.”

Germ actually laughed at that. It seemed to be rare that he laughed at any jokes unless he was the one telling them. The sound of it made Mae laugh too, which she needed after the heavy conversation.

There was a long silence once the laughter trailed off. Mae closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think about things like this before practice. Hell, she didn’t want to think about the idea of Bea hating her at all.

“…You know, if she hated you as much as you worry she does, she wouldn’t even be talking to you, and I don’t think she would have hired you. It takes a lot for other people to put up with people like us, and I don’t think that Bea is a very good liar, as much as she tries to be. She wants to be your friend, so she is. She likes you, whether she likes it or not.”

Mae’s eyes widened as Germ said all that. It was the most she’d ever heard him say at a time. “I…wow, Germ. You really think so?”

“Yes. Bea has a lot of hurt, though. And the hurt causes the hate. She hates her job. She hates other people, and I think she takes it out on the rest of us because we’re all she has, so she sometimes hates us on accident. She keeps too much inside. I think she should scream more often. Or cry. Something to let it out. But she just keeps going, and keeps hurting. I worry that it’s just going to take one small bad thing to cause her to break.”

Mae was almost speechless. She had never realized Germ was this articulate. He was always so blunt, to the point, but never this elaborate in any explanation beforehand. “You’ve been thinking about this…”

“Bea is a good friend. I like my friends, and I worry for them when I think they need worrying for.” Germ sighed. “Dams don’t hold up well when they’re worn out. All it takes is one bad storm, and then…”

“A flood.” Mae murmured, leading them back into silence. She remembered her childhood, the year that her Grandpa passed away. If anything like that force of nature was happening _inside Bea…_

“…She doesn’t hate you. I don’t think she could if she even wanted to. She smiles when she talks about you. She still laughs when she tells me the story of when you played the Fish God at the mall and spat on people.”

“She tells that story?”

“Yes. A lot. I think because it makes her laugh so much. You’ve given her several stories to laugh about.”

“Glad I can be a good jester.” Mae sighed, lazily strumming a claw across a low string on the bass. “I’ll put it on my resume right next to ‘hardware store janitor’.”

“You aren’t just that. You’re more. A friend.” Germ smiled, gently, awkwardly patting Mae on the shoulder for reassurance.

“Right…a good friend.” Mae smiled. She was about to thank Germ, before he continued.

“She might think more of you though.”

“What?” Mae’s eyes widened.

“You know. Like you think about her.”

Her normally wide pupils shrunk to pinheads, and her mouth opened, syllables tripping over themselves as she struggled to form an argument.

“Wh—how’d—I don’t—“

Germ smirked, rocking back and forth innocently.

“Found your crush.” He crowed, teasingly.

“SHUT UP OH MY GOD JEREMY.” Mae shrieked as she slapped his shoulder. Again, Germ laughed, shrill and almost childlike as he drummed his hands on top of his knees, almost falling off the stage. As he composed himself as best he could, Mae hid her face in her hands, groaning mournfully. “Ugggh now I have to kill you so you don’t tallllk. Godddddd.” She groaned, reaching down and testing the heft of the bass in her hands.

“I won’t—haha—I won’t tell her, don’t worry! I won't tell anybody!” Germ raised his hands, defensively.

" _ **Good**_." Mae huffed, the red on her cheeks contrasting with the dark midnight blue of her fur.

“I mean it though, she may think more of you than you realize.”

“Tch. I’m not Bea’s type.” Mae rolled her eyes. It had almost been an hour, now. They’d be here any time. “I am like, way out of Bea Santello’s league.”

“Not by a long shot.” Germ smiled, innocently.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mae blinked, turning to face him. Before either of them could reply, the metal door of the Party Barn slowly shrieked open like an arthritic person crawling out of bed, groaning and arguing against Angus and Gregg’s efforts.

“What, you two havin’ a no boys allowed club?” Gregg wagged his eyebrows at the two on the stage.

“Oh you know it. Princess Germy and I were about to have a tea party.”

“We were?”

“Aw, man. Sorry to intrude.” Gregg scoffed. “Next practice I will wear my frilliest skirt.”

“He’s not lying, he’ll do it.” Angus added, adjusting his glasses. “The absolute madman.”

“I’ve seen it happen.” Bea added, stepping in behind them, her laptop tucked under her arm. “Gregg probably has the frilliest tutu in all of Possum Springs and he is not afraid to flaunt it.”

Mae laughed. “There’s a story Gregg’s never told me.”

“I have many secrets.” Gregg chuckled, hands on his hips as he strutted past Mae and Germ.

“And many frilly dresses.” Angus added.  “Hey, Bea, everything ok? You were kinda late today.”

“Yeah. Just kinda had a thing with dad.” She sighed, as she opened her laptop.

“Good thing, or—“

“No.”

“Oh.” Gregg nodded, puffing out his cheek. He quickly moved away from the subject. “Right, ok, well, tonight we’re gonna practice a new song, might take a few tries to get it down right.”

“Which one?” Angus asked as he strode over to the microphone, plugging it in and giving it a couple of testing taps.

“The one we came up a couple weeks ago after...everything.” Gregg replied, picking up his guitar and beginning to tune it, while Germ took his place offstage, muttering something about wanting tea.

“Oh, right. ‘Ghosts’.” Bea smiled a little.

“Yeah, the one you wrote. I punched up the lyrics like you asked me to so it flows better and I’ve got the guitars down. Angus is good to go on singin’ it I think.”

“I don’t know this one either.” Mae added.

“Improv, baby.” Gregg clicked his tongue at Mae, making finger guns. “It’s what you’re good at.”

“If I suck it’s your fault.”

“You had an hour’s headstart.”  Gregg stuck his tongue out at Mae, tuning his guitar. Mae stuck her tongue out at Gregg in retaliation, and he smirked, knowing he’d won. “Right, well, let me know when you’re ready to get this show on the road, Mae.”

Mae took a deep breath, looking over at Angus, who loosened his tie a bit, giving a thumbs up. She looked over at Bea, who looked up briefly from her laptop to offer the same gesture.

And then, she looked down at Germ, who smiled and gave her a thumbs up. This one, she smiled and returned back, her own little ‘thank you’ for the talk they’d had, and for Germ, it was enough.

“Ready.”

“Ok, then.” Gregg purred as he rolled his head from side to side, popping his neck and taking his playing stance. “One, two, three...hit it, Bea…”

* * *

 

End of Act One

* * *

 


	4. Prelude to Act 2: Home Enough

[Foxtrot Messenger Client v.402]

**Mayday [Mae Borowski] has logged in (12/1/2017 7:40 pm)**

Bea S.: Oh thank god you’re on

Mayday:  :O wow haven’t heard that from you yet

Mayday: Usually you’re not so happy to see me

Bea S.: Not exactly happy but Im not mad. well I am but. not at you don’t worry

Bea S.: I need a big favor. I hate to even ask this n I probably wouldn’t if I weren’t a little drunk

Mayday: Woah woah woah, you hardly ever drink. What’s wrong

Mayday: What do you need me to do?

Bea S.: Can I come over please

Mayday: ??

Bea S.: Just. Please.

Mayday: What happened???

Bea S.: My dad.

Bea S: We had a really bad fight.

Bea S.: Worse than usual.

Bea S.:  I don’t want to be around him.

Mayday: Oh my god

Mayday: Let me tell my parents, I’ll be right over to walk you over here, don’t go anywhere, don’t do anything.

_[Mayday is Busy]_

Bea S.: Thank you.

Bea S.: I don’t know what I’d do without you Mae

Bea S.: See you soon...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a preview for Act 2, the next chapter will arrive soon! Getting it written up right now. (all three acts will be on this same fic so don't worry about looking out for new ones)


	5. Crocodile Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words as weapons, sharper than knives.

 

* * *

 

The day of the message…

* * *

 

“Well, if it isn’t the worker bee herself.” Angus smiled as Mae entered the Video Outpost, a bag of food from Buck in one hand, and a drink in the other.

“Huh? No, Bea eats lunch in the break room. It’s just me.” Mae wriggled her nose. “It’s just me.”

“I meant…nevermind.” Angus chuckled. “You know we don’t really allow food in here, right?”

“Really? Ah, nuts. Wanna come outside?”

“I can, yeah. Hang on…” Angus turned, cupping a hand to his mouth, calling into a room behind the register. “Hey, Lexi! I’m taking a break.”

_“Okay? I’ll watch the register while you’re gone?”_

“Sounds good!” Angus smiled, turning back to Mae. “Cool. Let’s go, there’s a bench near the big statue.”

"Sweeeet. We get to eat with dead people."

"Better than eating dead people." Angus chuckled as he stepped out from behind the register.

* * *

  
A few minutes later, Angus and Mae were sitting with their lunch, the monument statue in the park shading them as they ate.

“So how’re things going at work? We haven’t really spoken much offline since you got the job.”

“Oh, it’s going well! I think so, at least. I just kinda get into a zone and…it’s weird. Like, I hate doing chores around the house, but when I’m at work, I’m good at it? And I don’t mind it at all.”

“I guess a paycheck helps.”

“Well, yeah, there’s that.”

“You still saving up for college stuff?”

“Yeah. I’m keeping my end of the promise for Bea as long as she keeps hers.”

“Cool, cool. I know she’s trying her best to keep her end of the deal. It’s weird seeing her without a cigarette in her mouth. I can tell she still gets cravings. Her hands tremble sometimes and she's real terse.”

“I knew she would. But like…” Mae scratched the back of her head, popping the last bit of a taco in her mouth. Angus waited patiently until Mae finished it. “But I’d rather her be mad and healthy than calm and sick or dying.”

“I guess that’s fair. You really think a lot of her, huh?”

“I can’t see how anybody wouldn’t. Bea’s great.”

“That she is.” Angus agreed with a chuckle.

“I just wish…I kind of wish she thought I were great, too.” Mae sighed, taking a sip of her drink, eyes looking at the ground.

“You don’t think she does?”

“Well, I mean, I don’t see why she would. I kind of effed up things for her on more than one occasion since I came back, and at the party we went to a while back she pretty much admitted that she hated me for being so…”

“Aloof?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s a word for it. She used worse ones: ‘careless, stupid’. It made me feel so…awful.”

“Bea seems like she’s easy to get mad. She puts on a calm face, but anyone that knows her can tell she’s got way too much pressure under the surface.”

“Still, it seems like she meant it. Like…even after everything, it seems like she hates me a little. Like, there's this little bit of a barricade between us. And I don’t want that.”

“You want things to be like they were when you were younger.” Angus offered an explanation. Mae shook her head, which raised Angus' eyebrows.

“No. No, not even just that. I want to begin again, and just…erase all of the bad shit I’ve done, the stuff that’s made her mad, that made her hate me. But I can’t. I can’t just put my hand out and be like ‘Hey, Ms. Santello, I’m Mae Borowski! Nice to meet you for the first time!’ and just make it to where she doesn’t hate me anymore.”

“I don’t think that Bea really hates you, Mae. I think that…I think she’s just tired. And angry. But not at you. She told me about her life, about things with her dad. And there’s probably some stuff that you don’t know about—that you shouldn’t know about.”

“And she didn’t tell me?” Mae looked up at Angus, sadly, her ears folding down. He frowned a little.

“You were gone for a long time, Mae. She couldn’t tell you.”

Mae remained silent, looking down at the ground again, as if the answers would be scattered there, but there were only dead leaves. Angus sighed and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Look, Mae. She’s not friends with you because she’s obligated, or out of proximity, or whatever you think it is. She’s not an easy person to be friends with in the first place, but the same could be said for you. Both of you have got some pretty heavy stuff going on in your heads. She’s seeing a therapist about it, but that’s only like, once or twice a month. And she’s talked to me about things, about _you_ …she feels more strongly about you than I think you know.”

“Yeah, Germ said that I made her laugh, when he and I were talking at Band Practice. I guess it’s good I can just do even that…”

“Even if it were just that, Bea _needs_ that, Mae. She needs to laugh, she needs a constant friend, she needs _you_. But it isn’t just that you make her laugh that draws her to you.”

Mae smiled a little. “…Can I tell you something? And like, you keep it private?”

“Of course.” Angus smiled, adjusting his glasses. Mae swallowed, her mouth becoming dry all of a sudden as she thought very hard about what she said, making sure it was right.

“…Bea’s really…really important to me. And I’d be lying if I said that part of the reason I wanted to work at the Pickaxe isn’t because I wanted to see her every day. But this whole ‘you stop smoking, I get work’ thing wasn’t just some big, elaborate plan to get to see her every day.”

“You do seem like the kind of person that’d have trouble planning that many steps ahead.”

“Yeah.” Mae nodded, agreeing. “So like, though…” she squinted, trying to find the words for it. “Bea’s a really good friend. She stuck her neck out for me when she didn't need to, she took me along with her when she didn't have to, she's just...she's great. She’s really important to me. And I just…I want to make her as happy as I can, because she’s had a hard life, and she deserves happiness, and I don’t know many ways that I can give her that happiness. I just want to make her happy, because…”

“You love her.” Angus finished for her. Mae’s mouth hung open. Her eyes widened to little red dots, and she looked up at Angus, as if he’d just cursed in church.

“D-…Did Germ tell you?” she choked out.

“Nooo, but it wasn’t hard to guess.” Angus snickered, adjusting his glasses and flashing her a playful grin.

“Oh…Ohhhh God…” Mae muttered, putting her head in her hands, defeated. "Oh, I sound like an idiot, don't I?"

“Hey, look, it’s ok.” Angus chuckled.

“It’s _stupid_.” Mae groaned.

“What about it is stupid, Mae?”

“It’s me! Pining after Bea! Bea effing Santello! She told me she likes the tall, handsome broody type, and like, smart people! Like, like you, or that guy she was talking with at the party, or…God, anyone but me! ”

“Sooo you’re just giving up? Just like that?”

“I don’t know, man! I’ve got like, no chance with her, and I’m trying to just let it go and move on, but I can’t, and it’s pissing me off!” She growled, holding the sides of her head. Angus squeezed her shoulder, trying to comfort her enough to calm her down.

“That’s how love is. You fall in, and you can’t always get out at the snap of your fingers. But…it sounds to me like you’re just giving up on thinking that Bea could like you that way, when you don't know in the first place, and you haven't even tried.”

“And you think she could?” Mae scoffed. “Germ said something like that the other day. Sounds like you guys know more than I do.”

“Not necessarily. Bea’s just talked about you the same way that you talk about her without saying as much. She cares a lot about you. It might even be that she cares about you the same way.”

Mae blinked, cooling down finally. “So I should just…do it? Lay it all out on the table? Tell her how I feel?”

“I don’t know. Bea’s a tricky one. I can’t always get a good read on how or what she’s feeling unless she's blunt about it, but she's very good about being blunt. It might work if you were blunt with your feelings, but then again, she might want to take things slower, do things the old romance novel way.”

“…And what if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“The worst thing she could say is ‘no’”

“Tch. “ Mae snickered, shaking her head. “Bea can say a lot worse than no. Believe me, I’ve heard it.”

“It’s up to you, Mae.” Angus sighed. “You can tell her, if you want. Or you can hope the feeling goes away. Nobody else can make that decision for you.”

Mae nodded, closing her eyes with a soft sigh. “I don't think I want this feeling to go away…” she crumpled up her empty fast food bag, tossing it into the trash, chugging the soda down as if it were a stiff drink. “Ah, hell. I shouldn’t have kept you from work so long. I gotta get back to the Pickaxe.”

“Ah, it’s fine, Mae. It wasn’t that long, and you needed to talk.” Angus stood up, stretching, tossing his own empty bag in the garbage. “I just hope some of what I said stuck. Bea really does care a lot for you. She may not admit it to you, but she’s admitted as much to me, if not in those exact words. I don’t think she could do without you, come what may.”

Mae smiled, giving Angus a quick hug. “Thanks, big guy. I’ll talk to you online later?”

“Sure thing. Enjoy the rest of your day!”

“You too! Thanks!” Mae waved, as she took off in the direction of the Pickaxe.

* * *

 

Later that evening…

* * *

 

 

Bea sighed as she closed the door to her apartment. The smell had hit her the second she stepped in, so the sight of the half empty whiskey bottle on the counter didn’t really surprise her.

“God damnit dad.” She muttered to herself.

“God damn what?”

The slurred voice spoke up from a nearby recliner, startling Bea and causing her to drop her keys, which she quickly fumbled for. “Oh, uh, hey, dad, just getting home from work—“

“God damn _what_?” he repeated, more insistently, trying to slur out an authoritative tone, folding his arms.

“You know what!” Bea groaned, picking up her keys. “You’ve been drinking again.”

“So what?”

“So I thought you said you were done with that! You know how it makes you act.” She hissed.

“Like a god damn _man_?”

“Like an idiot.”

“ _You’re_ an idiot.”

Bea chuckled, opening the cabinet to find something to eat. “Me? I’m the only one making sure you have a place to stay!”

“Hey—“

“Because lord knows you’re not gonna see to any of that yourself.”

“You’re a _bitch_.”

The insult stung, but Bea pulled down the cup of instant noodles from the cabinet nonetheless. She told herself that she deserved at least _this_ much.

“You’re a _bitch_.” He repeated.

“Uh huh. Keep talkin’, dad.” She scoffed. It had been months since she had to deal with this. Months since he got himself hammered this badly and turned into…this.

“You’re a _ass_ hole. I do everythin’ around here for you, and you turn aroun’ and squall at me for having a good time.”

“Sitting on the recliner in the dark is a good time for you? You must’ve been having a _ball_ these last few years.”

“Fuck you!”

“No, **_FUCK YOU_**!”

The shout was enough to stun her father into silence, but it wasn’t enough for Bea.

“I have _tried_ to be understanding, dad!” she continued, voice shaking with nervous anger as she approached him, having abandoned the unopened cup of noodles. “I have _tried_ to forgive all of this, to let it go, to just write it off as part of the breakdown, but for God’s sake, you haven’t done one god damn thing to try and even keep us alive! I’ve had to pick up your slack on so many levels! I have to go in to work at the job _you abandoned_ every day and scrape up just a bare minimum enough of imagination to pretend I enjoy it, that—that I enjoy working with that _thing_ that wanted to _touch_ me, that you’re too chicken shit to let go!”

“He’s a good worker!” her father started to argue.

“He’s a PERVERT!! And you don’t care!!”

“Aw, don’t try an’ act like you’re smarter’n me you big baby. “ he scowled. “You ain’t even been to college.”

This brought a fresh wave of fury out of Bea. “I _can’t_ go, because I’m too busy keeping _your_ ass out of the poorhouse!" she screamed, tears welling up in her eyes. “You don’t care about me! You don’t care about the job, you don’t care about anything except sitting here and waiting to die, and  you don’t care that you’re dragging me down with you!” she sobbed. “Do you even remember what I wanted to be when I grew up, dad!?”

“Oh for—“

“A writer! I wanted to be a writer. And mom loved that. She supported that. She saved up for a month to buy me the computer so I could get started, but I haven’t been able to write a god damn word to anyone besides my friends because ‘they need me at the Ole Pickaxe’ when that isn’t true, and it hasn’t been for years. The truth is _you_ need me there so you can sit alone in here with the blinds down and pretend that you don’t have any responsibility for the way things are!”

“You listen!” he snapped, jabbing a finger up against her chest, right in the center of the ankh on her shirt. “Your mother was my world, Beatrice! She was my sun and moon and stars! And she died! I knew her longer than you’ll EVER know her! And she was a hundred times the woman you’ll ever be, because she _did something_ with her life.”  
  
At no point before or after this one moment in her life, did the thought of punching her father across the face ever cross her mind. It took every ounce of willpower to keep herself from doing just that. She clenched and unclenched her fists, then turned away from her father, going over to the counter and grabbing the half empty bottle of alcohol. She turned around, taking a long, chugging drink from it, nearly finishing it off, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

“What’re you doin’? That stuff’s expensive, dammit! It’s comin’ out of your pay!”

“Tch.” Bea grunted. “You wanna know something, dad?” she growled. “You may sign the checks up there, but I’m the one making sure that the crew earns them, and that things get done. Hell, Mae Borowski’s done more to help see to the store than you have in two years, and if that isn't pathetic I don’t know what is. I sure as hell respect her more than I do you right now, because you haven’t done anything to earn it.” She strode over toward him, screwing the cap back onto the bottle with a sniffle, the tears still flowing.

“You broke down after mom died. I get it. I did too. I’m sorry. You did know her longer than me, but I knew her my whole life. _My whole. Damn. Life_. But I did what you couldn’t, dad. I picked up every little piece of myself that broke, fit as many together as I could, and tried my damndest to keep everything from collapsing around us, because I thought it’s what you would have done if you were able. But now…now I don’t even know about _that_.” She laughed dryly, wiping a stream of tears away from across her snout. “You still wanna think I don’t know anything, dad? That I don’t _do_ anything?” she leaned down to eye level with the silent, stunned man. “At least that’s _one thing_ I can say you taught me how to do.”

The punch came before either of them even realized what had happened, and sent Bea stumbling back onto the ground. Bea’s mouth opened wide in shock, as she covered her nose, which had already begun to bleed through her fingers. She stood up, taking several long, deep breaths.

“Bea—Bea I’m sorry—“

“Shut up.”

“Honey—“

“Don’t say a DAMN THING!” she snarled, stepping back from him as he reached out to her. The tears came harder now as she scrambled over to the paper towels, ripping off several sheets to plug up her bleeding nostrils. “I’ve had it! I’m getting the hell out of here!!” she screamed as she hurried past him as he began to drunkenly sob, covering his mouth with his hands, weeping out apologies that fell on deaf ears, even as Bea slammed the door to her room.

 

* * *

 

[Foxtrot Messenger Client v.402]

**Mayday [Mae Borowski] has logged in (12/1/2017 7:40 pm)**

Bea S.: Oh thank god you’re on

Mayday:  :O wow haven’t heard that from you yet

Mayday: Usually you’re not so happy to see me

Bea S.: Not exactly happy but Im not mad. well I am but. not at you don’t worry

Bea S.: I need a big favor. I hate to even ask this n I probably wouldn’t if I weren’t a little drunk

Mayday: Woah woah woah, you hardly ever drink. What’s wrong

Mayday: What do you need me to do?

Bea S.: Can I come over please

Mayday: ??

Bea S.: Just. Please.

Mayday: What happened???

Bea S.: My dad.

Bea S: We had a really bad fight.

Bea S.: Worse than usual.

Bea S.:  I don’t want to be around him.

Mayday: Oh my god

Mayday: Let me tell my parents, I’ll be right over to walk you over here, don’t go anywhere, don’t do anything.

_[Mayday is Busy]_

Bea S.: Thank you.

Bea S.: I don’t know what I’d do without you Mae

Bea S.: See you soon...

* * *

 

Bea closed the lid of her laptop, swallowing as she did so, looking down at the bloodied paper towels she’d been holding over her nose. She clenched them into a ball, throwing them into the wastebin under her desk before unplugging her laptop, sliding it into a rarely used backpack, along with a change of clothes and an emergency kit she’d made out for herself, just in case…

…just in case of something like this.

As she shoved the kit into her backpack, she noticed a small, square package: a cheap little pack of cigarettes, with a lighter right beneath, conveniently. She took them out of the backpack, and looked at them for a long time, hands still shaking. Now, more than ever, she **needed** this. She **needed** to calm her nerves. Mae would understand. She was a good person. She'd forgive her. Mae would…

Mae wouldn’t understand.

Mae would hate her.

She couldn’t deal with that.

She couldn’t deal with Mae hating her.

She swallowed, and with all the willpower she could muster, opened her bedroom window and threw both the cigarettes and the lighter as far out as she could, watching them land on the roof of a pawn shop across the street.

Knowing how fast Mae moved when she was in a hurry, Bea closed the window, quickly zipping the backpack shut and opening her bedroom door to leave.

As she re-entered the main room, she saw her dad on the floor, curled up into a ball and crying.

“I’m sorry, Bea, I’m so sorry angel, I didn’t mean to—“

“I know you didn’t.” She sighed, not even looking at him. “I’m going to stay over at the Borowski’s for a day or two, over the weekend I guess. I don’t think I can be around you right now. I am…I am very upset.” She said, shakily.

“But…but what’ll I do…without you…” he sobbed, hiccupping.

“Learn to live, hopefully.” Bea responded with as much coldness as she could muster, before she opened the door to her apartment, stepping out, and locking the door back behind her.

She couldn’t love him right now. She couldn’t forgive him yet.

* * *

 

“I got here as quick as I could...” Mae panted, as she arrived at the steps of the apartment, where Bea was waiting for her. She opened her mouth to say something, before spotting the blood around Bea’s snout. “Oh…oh my god, your _nose_. Was that—“

“Yeah…”

“I’m gonna kill him!” Mae snarled trying to go past Bea, before the taller girl threw her arms around Mae in a hug, keeping her in place.

“Don’t. Don’t…please.” Bea sniffled. “I need you here. With me. I need to be with you…away from him, anywhere with you that’s away from him.” She said as she buried her face against what she could of Mae’s shoulder, careful not to smudge blood on Mae’s blue and red varsity jacket—one of the only things she’d brought home from college. Bea couldn’t help but laugh as she jumbled her words. “God…I’m getting mixed up. I sound like you, don’t I?”

Mae awkwardly returned the hug, patting Bea on the back. “It’s ok, Beabea. I understand. Let’s go home.” She smiled. “My parents went out to get some stuff to eat. You can stay with us for as long as you need.”

“Thank you…” Bea said, gently, smiling down at Mae. “I…I’d drive us, but I don’t think I should, I drank a little. Don’t want your Aunt Mallcop to get on our asses.” She chuckled, doing her best to make a joke.

“Ah, that’s ok. I haven’t even seen Aunt Molly in a while.” Mae snickered as she drew away from Bea to get a better look at her. “C’mon. We can walk. The cold air’ll sober you up a little.”

“You think?”

“I dunno. Couldn’t hurt.”

“Heh…heh heh…” Bea laughed, softly but with genuine warmth, letting go of Mae, tears finally subsiding. “Ok, Mayday. Lead on.”

With that, Mae began to walk with Bea, gently taking her hand. It felt warm. Mae wished that she could be walking hand in hand with Bea during better circumstances…

Oh, what was she thinking? Bea was upset and she needed Mae.

There _was_ no better circumstance for Mae to hold Bea's hand.

\-------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably the hardest chapter I've had to write of this fic so far. We didn't see much of Mr. Santello's character in the game, but he struck me as the kind of character that would drink his pains away, which would obviously not be good for Bea.
> 
> I don't think that Mr. Santello is inherently a bad person, but after his wife, Bea's mother, died, Bea had a lot put on her shoulders, not just because of the added responsibility of tending to the house, but because her father entered a breakdown. And as much as I'm sure that Bea's father loves his daughter canonically, he seems very absent to her true feelings and to her wants and needs, even when they're right in front of his face. We never see anything outside of Mae's limited interaction with him, so there was a lot of room to write in more of his troubled character of someone who, in doing the bare minimum, thinks he's still doing enough.
> 
> I wrote Mr. Santello this way because I empathize with Bea, and just like her in this story, I've had to deal with the toll of a loved one drinking heavily and becoming stagnant after a crisis and never really stopping, leaving me to pick up the slack on things such as housework and other maintenance. In this story, it's been years, and anyone in Bea's situation would reach their limit of patience eventually, no matter how much love is there between two people.
> 
> I hope that this chapter wasn't too much. Things will go up from here.


	6. [ This fic is not dead! ]

I am so, so so so so so so so sorry for my absence, everyone. The last few months have been absolutely weird and crazy for me and like...urgh.

Ok, so here's some stuff that happened:

*My living situation changed drastically and I found myself alone.  
*A friend moved in to help me cover bills, had to change my lifestyle to accommodate that.  
*Same friend moved out a couple of months later because her grandma's health took a turn.  
*My health, both physical and mental has been up and down.  
*One of my best friends of ten years decided he preferred being a jackass to being a friend

And all the while, my muse for writing basically circled the drain.

But, I think I'm in the position to where I could return to writing, and I just wanted to let you all know this fic is -not dead-. It will be coming back. I don't want to give any dates or deadlines.

I am also going to start taking commissions for my writing, and I am also considering opening up a Ko-Fi. My financial situation has improved from a few months ago, but it's not ideal and I could really use the extra help. If I did open a Ko-Fi for tips and stuff, it would probably encourage me to keep writing on a more consistent basis, which is something I need to relearn.

I just wanted to finish off with saying a huge thank you to everyone who has read and supported this fic. I want you all to know, I have read your comments and while my depression has kept me from being willing to reply, every word of support has meant so very much to me. It's part of the reason I'm coming back. When I upload the next chapter, I'll do so with the information about the Ko-Fi and my commission prices in the comment section.

For now, I've been too much of a tease already, I know, but permit me to give you all a reward for your patience:

The title of the next chapter will be "Stuck Together (Forever and Ever)"

Thank you all. Have a lovely day. <3


	7. Stuck Together (Forever)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No response on any level  
> Red alert this vessel's under siege  
> Total overload  
> All systems down  
> They've got control  
> There's no way out  
> We are surrounded  
> Give in, give in  
> And relish every minute of it...

* * *

 

 

“I told you already, Mae, I’m fine.” Bea sighed as her friend pressed the damp cloth against her nose. “The bleeding stopped by now. I don’t think he broke anything.”

 

“I know, I know, just...cleaning it. I still can’t believe he actually did something like that!” Mae growled.

 

“Well, he was drunk.” Bea muttered. “Drunk people tend to do pretty stupid stuff.”

 

“Yeah, like vomit or do cartwheels off their roof. Not punch their daughter in the face. I ought to give him a piece of my mind.”

 

“I doubt he’d listen.” Bea replied, bitterly. “He hasn’t listened to me, yet. Doubt he’d listen to you.”

 

“I can be very persuasive.”

 

“You can be impulsive and dangerous.”

 

“That can be persuasive!”

 

Bea couldn’t help but laugh. It was hard for Bea to tell if it were a joke, but seeing Bea laugh made Mae smile, at least. She took the wet cloth away, and seemed satisfied with the miniscule bloodstain on it.

 

“You sure it doesn’t feel broken?”

 

“I’ve broken bones before, Mae, this doesn’t feel like that.”

 

“You have? Holy shit, when?” Mae’s eyes widened.

 

“When I was a kid, before I met you. We were on a field trip with our daycare, and we’d gone out to a Stinky Pete’s Pizza and Arcade as a reward for being good at the art museum we went to first. It was one of the nice ones, with the indoor playgrounds. I decided to be a badass and do a cartwheel into the ballpit. Broke my ankle on the landing, because, well...plastic balls aren’t exactly good traction.”

 

“Holy crap.”

 

“Yeah, they uh...took the ball pit out because of that incident, last I’d heard. That or some kid vomited in it. I dunno. Either way it was a health risk.” she snickered, pinching the bridge of her nose, embarassed of the memory. “So, yeah. I’m used to ruining other people’s fun from a young age.”

 

“I bet it looked cool, though.”

 

“Yeah, for the kids watching, anyway.” she snorted, then cringed at the sudden wave of pain. Mae stood up, but Bea held a hand out to keep her back, shaking her head. “I’m ok, I’m ok, just...banged up.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Alright.” Mae sighed, sitting back down, this time taking her seat next to Bea on her bed.

 

“When did your parents say they’d be getting back?”

 

“About an hour-ish. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid. And if you think  _ I’m  _ being too worried about your safety, wait ‘til my mom gets home.”

 

“Ah, crap.” Bea sighed, with an exasperated smile.

 

“Hey, look on the bright side. At least we care.” Mae offered, with a smile of her own. Bea opened her mouth and made a soft, choked noise. She couldn’t help but give a little grin, placing her hand in Mae’s, giving it a grateful squeeze.

 

“Yeah. Guess so.” she smiled, looking over at Mae, whose own eyes were wide at the gesture, and her ears had raised.

 

“You uh...you ok? You sobered up, any?”

 

“Huh?” Bea blinked. Her own eyes widened, and she drew her hand away, coughing. “Oh, uh, yeah, yeah, the buzz is wearing off. It’s been a couple hours, now and the jerky you got me at the gas station helped, I’m...I’m calming down now.” she turned away from Mae and stood up, trying desperately to hide her pinkening face. “Thank you.”

 

“Don’t mention it.” Mae swallowed, blushing.

_ Damn it, Mae. You just had to ruin the moment. _ She chided herself, mentally, clenching the hand that Bea had held into a fist for a few seconds, trying desperately to cling onto the warmth.

 

“So...this is you, huh?” Bea spoke up, snapping Mae out of her trance. The taller girl had moved over to Mae’s desk, and was looking around her room.

 

“Bit snoopy, much?” Mae snorted.

 

“Oh, uh, sorry.”

 

“I was joking! Not much to snoop through. I uh...didn’t bring much home from College. Feel free to look.”

 

“There uh...there anything you don’t want me to find?”

 

“Top drawer’s my weed stash, middle’s my porn collection and the bottom drawer is where I keep my collection of knives I find when I’m dumpster diving.” she replied, pointing at each drawer in order as she spoke. At Bea’s reaction, the facade broke and she fell back on the bed, laughing. “Oh, man! You should--haha--you should see the look on your face!” she giggled. Bea’s expression turned from shock to a weary sigh and a roll of her eyes.

 

“You’re a good actor.” Bea groaned, opening the top drawer of the desk. There was, almost disappointingly, no weed. That would’ve at least explained some of Mae’s behavior.

 

“I don’t do that stuff, man. You’ve seen what drinking does to me, I don’t wanna get that effed up anymore, on anything.”

 

“Some people say weed helps them with their uh...issues.” Bea coughed. “I haven’t really indulged since high school, though, so…”

 

“Eh. I still don’t like the idea of doing that kind of thing, myself. I don’t...really like the person I am when I’m impaired.” Mae scratched the back of her head. She obviously had some discomfort about the topic. Bea quietly nodded at her.

 

“Yeah. I get that.” she turned her attention back to the drawer, tilting her head a little at a sheet of paper, folded up neatly. She picked it out, unfolding it, and her eyes widened yet again in surprise.

 

“What?” Mae blinked, seeing Bea’s reaction.

 

“You kept it?” Bea laughed, stepping over to Mae and showing her the paper. It was old, starting to yellow with time, and it’d become weak to the touch, but the drawing was still visible. It was a picture, crudely drawn with a child’s hand, of Mae and Bea in their scout uniforms. Underneath, in a shaky handwriting, was written:

‘Mae n Me, Best Friends Forever. Bea Santello, Age 8.’

 

“Oh.” Mae swallowed, heat flaring into her cheeks. “Oh, uh...y-yeah, yeah I did. What’s wrong with that?”

 

“Nothing! It’s cute.” Bea laughed. “Not really my best work, but…” she continued laughing, sitting next to Mae, eyes fixed on the drawing, memories flooding back.

 

“Well...it meant a lot to me. And when I found it in my old scout handbook, it was the only thing I really... _ had _ , of you, I guess, after we went our separate ways. We weren’t exactly the friendship bracelet types.”

 

Mae had seemed so excited when Bea drew that for her. She was excited about so many things back then. Then again, not much had seemed to change, there. But she hadn’t expected Mae to keep it. She hadn’t expected Mae to remember it, or care, or…

 

“Why?”

 

“Huh?” Mae blinked.

 

“W...why did you keep it?” Bea asked, trying to hide the crack in her voice with a light cough. “After all this time, I mean? Even when we split up?”

 

Mae frowned. “Because it was special to me, Bea.  _ You’re _ special to me. Nobody else has drawn me anything like that. I mean, people have drawn me stuff, but usually like...stick figures of me and Gregg trashing stuff.” she sighed through her nose. The next words weighed heavy on her tongue, even as she rested her head in her hands, looking down at the floor. “And...I guess I just wanted to remember the times when you weren’t always mad at me. When I didn’t disappoint you all the time.”

 

Mae didn’t look up, but Bea didn’t reply, either, leaving an uncomfortable silence in the room for a few seconds that felt like minutes.

“Uh…” Mae broke the silence with an uncomfortable cough. “I’m...I’m sorry. Forget it, I--”

 

The words were cut off as Bea threw herself against Mae, the drawing fluttering to the floor as Bea tackled the her down onto the bed, which made Mae yelp. At first she thought that Bea’s arms around her neck were trying to choke her, but it took a few moments to register it as a hug. It didn’t take so long to register that Bea was shivering, crying softly.

 

“Don’t apologize, you idiot…” Bea sniffled, voice choked. “I’m...I’m the one that’s been horrible to you, ever since you came back.”

 

“...Bea?” Mae whispered. As she did, Bea tightened her grip around Mae, burying her head against Mae’s shoulder.

 

“No, let me talk, please…” Bea whimpered, eyes screwing shut, trying--and failing miserably--to stop the cascade of tears from spilling down her cheeks. ”I’ve been awful to you. I’ve been rude, hateful, dismissive, and you’ve just been...you’ve just been  _ there _ , all the time, doing your best in an...in an impossibly difficult situation, and I’ve been a hateful, jealous bitch. I was so...so fucking jealous when you got to go to college, and I hated it when you dropped out. I thought you were the biggest, most selfish bitch I’d ever met in my entire life. I didn’t know about your issues and I don’t think I would’ve cared, even if you’d told me sooner. That’s how awful I am, Mae! I didn’t care! Even when you were trying to be friends again, even when you were trying to make me happy, I didn’t care, because all I could see was some idiot who threw everything away on a whim. But that’s not what you are, Mae. You’re my best friend...you’ve always been my best friend...I’m so sorry, Mae…I’m sorry I haven’t been able to be a friend in return...”

 

The sentences were rapid-fire, as if Bea had been meaning to say them for a long time, and when they were done, Bea fell into sobbing against Mae’s shoulder, staining her shirt with tears. Mae’s ears lowered. She didn’t know if it was the right thing to do, but her arms wrapped around Bea in return, stroking up and down along her back, trying to comfort her.

 

“Hey, c’mon. I’m not gonna let you talk about yourself that way, Bea. I think you’re pretty great. Why else would I want to spend so much time around you?” Mae’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle. It made Bea’s whimpering sobs die down a little bit, anyway.

 

“I...I dunno...masochism?” Bea tried to snort, but whimpered in pain, pressing her face against Mae’s shoulder.

 

“Hey. no.” Mae frowned again. “Well, not like that, anyway. That’s not the point.” she sighed, shaking her head, trying to get back on track. “Look, I...I know I’m a difficult person to be around, and especially to be friends with. God knows you’ve got it rough, anyway. I don’t blame you for being mad at me. I’m mad at me a lot, too. There’s a lot that I’m still trying to figure out, about...what I am, what I’ve got goin’ on in my brain, and what needs fixing. But…” she gently moved her hand up to the back of Bea’s head, fingers gently tracing the dark spines near her neck, trying to be comforting.

 

“But I know that I want you around for it. To help me, to support me, to just...just be. Just  _ Bea _ . And...you’ve done a lot for me, without even realizing it.”

 

Mae’s throat closed, brain trying to stop her from continuing, though she desperately wanted to. She wanted to tell Bea what she really meant to her, how much what she’d said just now meant to her. How it went so much more beyond friendship. 

 

But her heart was already pounding. This was enough, anyway, right? Just being Bea’s friend? Just being there for her, when she needed her, letting Bea cry against her.

 

“It’s ok, Bea. It’s gonna be ok. I’m here for you.”

 

She settled on that.

 

Finally, Bea seemed to relax a bit. Mae could hear her swallow, and take a deep, shivering breath.

 

“Mae…?” she asked, voice weak from crying, as she raised herself up a bit to look at Mae.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Can I...can I give you something?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“It’s...it’s not much, but I just...wanted to give you something. Something besides an old drawing. To make up for lost time, I guess…” she chuckled dryly.

 

“Oh, Bea, you don’t have to give me anyth--”

 

The next syllable was cut off into a sharp squeak by Bea’s mouth pressing up against hers in a gentle kiss, arms tightening once more around Mae’s shoulders. Mae’s eyes widened, red pupils shrinking to the size of pinheads, and she froze in place.

 

_ This isn’t happening.  _

 

_ This can’t be happening. _

 

Just as Bea started to pull back, Mae placed her hands on Bea’s face, keeping her in place, pulling her back in. Now Bea was the one who made a surprised noise, but it softened to a strange purr as she moved against it, returning the kiss gently just as Mae started to purr as well. It didn’t taste like nicotine, like Mae had expected.

 

_ This is a dream. _

 

_ This has to be a dream. _

 

Bea moved a hand to Mae’s cheek, tilting head to the side a little bit so Bea could give more to the kiss, leading it. Mae was clumsy, nose bumping against her already sore snout. Bea decided, mentally, that it didn’t matter. They were both clumsy, panicked, but the passion was there, and it needed to be let loose, here, now, in this moment.

 

_ No. This isn’t a dream. _

 

_ My dreams aren’t this good. _

 

Finally, after a minute of panicked, clumsy kissing, Bea pulled back, panting softly, placing her hands on Mae’s shoulders. Her eyes were red, tear stained trails going down her cheeks. But she was smiling, now, a big, dumb, toothy smile. 

 

_ Damn it. _

 

She wanted so badly to look cool, when she finally plucked up the courage to do this with Mae.

 

One of Mae’s hands stayed on Bea’s cheek, the other moving down to rest on one of Bea's hands, running her thumb over her knuckles. 

 

“You’re beautiful.” Mae said, gently.

 

“Shut up.” Bea laughed, voice weak from crying, but unable to hide the red in her cheeks as she leaned into Mae’s touch. “You’re a dork…”

 

“No, you are.” Mae laughed as well, giving Bea’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Oh my God, Bea…” she choked out with a weary laugh. “Did you...does this mean you…?”

 

“Yeah.” Bea nodded, smiling down at Mae gently. 

 

“How long as this...how long have you…”

 

“A while. Since...since the party. And the mines. And...when I realized I was scared you were dying. And since you decided to try to go back to college. I dunno, I...I didn’t want to lose you, again.”

 

“Oh, Bea…” Mae’s eyes welled up. Bea wished she could have caught the smile in a picture. But she shook her head, laying her head back down against Mae’s chest.

 

“Don’t you dare cry, I just stopped.”

 

“But you…” Mae choked out. “I was so scared you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

 

“ _ You _ were scared?  _ I  _ was nervous as all hell.”

 

Mae laughed, pressing a kiss to Bea’s forehead. It was awkward, a little rough, but that was Mae, after all. Awkward, rough, clumsy. 

 

And Bea didn’t want anything else right now.

 

“...Are...are you going to...I mean, do you want to…you know...” Mae swallowed. It was an awkward question, but she’d rather not have any more surprises sprung on her. Even if they were amazing surprises, like this one. 

 

Bea shook her head, though. “I don’t think so. Not tonight anyway, this is all just...I wasn’t expecting to do this. I was expecting...I dunno, visit to the park, or the graveyard, or us sitting on a roof somewhere, or…”

 

“Something romantic?”

 

“Something planned out a little better.”

 

“Your fault.” Mae stuck her tongue out and blew a quick raspberry. Bea laughed, and nuzzled against the slashed circle on Mae’s shirt. It was a dumb joke, and any other time, Bea probably wouldn’t have laughed as much as she did, but this was the most she’d even smiled in months. She wasn’t about to let this feeling pass her by without a fight.

 

“But yeah, no sex. I’m still sore, and your parents are probably gonna be home soon, anyway, and I’d rather not have that dumb trope come into this little romance of ours. This is good enough for now.”

 

‘Romance’. Oh, but that word was so strange, to describe their relationship. A day, even a week ago, it would’ve been out of the question, but now…

 

Now, there was no going back from this.

 

“What are we gonna tell them?”

 

“Your parents?”

 

“Everyone. I mean, if we’re gonna make this a thing, people are gonna know…”

 

“Are you scared of that?” Bea asked, gently, turning her head to lay on Mae’s chest like a pillow, looking up at her.

 

“Kinda.” 

 

“Me too. Some people might not like it.”

 

“Some people can stick it.” Mae frowned, wrapping her arms around Bea, petting her protectively. Bea laughed, sighing contently as she nuzzled against Mae. That’s all she needed to hear.

 

“Atta girl. This doesn’t make anything easier for us, but...whatever comes, at least we’ll be able to face it together.”

 

“Heh. Yeah. Stuck together…”

 

“Don’t suck together.” Bea finished for her, gently placing a hand on Mae’s forearm, giving it an assuring squeeze.

 

“Hehe...nah. I guess we don’t…” Mae smiled, closing her eyes and letting out a content, happy sigh.

 

This was nice.

 

\-----

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I guess I'm back! Hopefully this makes up for lost time! :D
> 
> So yeah, the confession and kiss was fun to write. It went through several rewrites before I was comfortable with the finished product, which...honestly didn't help the already fluctuating writing muse that I had during this really effing weird time in my life.
> 
> But, I never abandoned it. This story's my baby. It's very personally dear to me. I'm just sorry it took me this long to get back into the swing of it.
> 
> No drawing at the end, this time, sorry to say. I didn't know what to draw for it. But this song is on my writing playlist for the story, and I feel like it fits the theme of this chapter very well. It's about a love that's very sudden, passionate and confusing, and I feel like that's Mae and Bea's romance in this story. Both of their big, romantic ideas for how they planned on confessing to each other just got chucked out the window in a blaze of confused, crying, passionate kissing.
> 
> So yeah, next chapter HOPEFULLY soon. I don't want to give any sort of deadlines, after saying I was going to add a new chapter and then vanishing for a year. But hopefully sooner than before. 
> 
> I also erm...well, I don't really want to shill, but if you enjoyed this story so far, and would like to see more of it past the point where I'd planned on ending it, which was around chapter eight (which will be the chapter after the next one, since "chapter six" was just a statement of me being back to writing this. I'll probably delete it later), or if you'd like to see my take on postgame Gregg and Angus shenanigans that take place alongside this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page.
> 
> I'm in a bit of a rough financial situation and I'd really like to be able to feed myself and my pets substantially this month. Even if all you can donate is just the three dollars, that'd be fantastic and it's an excellent motivator to help me work on time, haha. 
> 
> I'm also interested in doing writing commissions, so if you want to pay me for something that isn't this story, feel free to let me know in a DM and we can hash out the details.
> 
> Thanks again so much for all your support in my absence, and I hate to ask for more of it with the Ko-Fi stuff, but even if all you can do is just enjoy the story, that means a lot too.
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/docjackal


	8. [An Apology and a Request for Patience]

This is not a chapter. I am sorry for the delay.

I had planned on having the latest chapter finished and uploaded weeks ago, but my world has gone completely scrambled.

My grandparents, who I have lived with for most of my life, alongside my late mother, have both passed away in the span of about six weeks.

My relationship with my grandfather was difficult. He was not a good person. He had severe alcoholism and was abusive toward my family. My feelings on his passing were...difficult. And in the midst of me trying to come to terms with my feelings of his passing, my grandma, who loved and raised me alongside my late mother, who had been in a nursing home with Parkinson's Disease, contracted an illness. By the time she was taken to the hospital, it had done too much damage to her. 

She passed away one week ago, as of my typing this.

I have lost my family in the span of two months.

I would appreciate everyone's patience in this difficult time for me. My writing muse is absent, at present. I will need time to get back to where I was.

I know it's a lot to ask, and it's by no means necessary but, my Ko-Fi is still open if anyone would like to donate to me.  
I truly appreciate those who have already donated, and I appreciate their support more than words can express for helping me last month.  
Things are...rough right now. Any help would be appreciated. If all you can give is patience though, it's alright. I understand.

https://ko-fi.com/docjackal

Thank you.

I'm sorry.


End file.
